


wake a little stronger

by grains_of_saturn



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety, Frottage, I look forward to being canonblasted by the DLC, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Praise Kink, References to past Promptis, Spoilers, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 21:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grains_of_saturn/pseuds/grains_of_saturn
Summary: Between the darkness and the daemons, Cor finds himself habitually looking out for Prompto's well-being.





	

It wasn't that Cor intended to spend so much time in Lestallum, but as the nights grew so long that daylight disappeared, the bright city lights gave protection alongside illumination. It almost felt as if the continent was falling in upon itself, and the daemons that crawled close to the former site of the Meldacio headquarters rendered the area practically inaccessible; at first, only the foolhardy would dare approach. Time passed, and the foolhardy fell; there was no room for error in a world that had forgotten light.

_Prince Noctis is gone. He isn't dead, but he is gone._

_Lady Lunafreya is gone. Passed from this blighted world._

Cor had thrown himself into the business of aiding the hunters with their marks, but that could only go so far. The news spread faster than darkness, and he found himself commanding others because he didn't know what else to do. They looked up to him, somehow. For some reason. He had the knowledge and the experience, but wasn't sure that he deserved the respect; his regrets had started with the Insomnia massacre, and had only piled up from that point on. He gave aid to those that needed it, hoping only to stave off what seemed like endless inevitable tragedy for as many moments as he could gather.

He saw those attendants of the prince, sometimes. Separately, each time. He didn't feel qualified to ask about their circumstance, and the basic truth seemed evident without question; one way or another, they had been united by the presence of Noctis. Without him--... there were other priorities. The degradation of the world around them was very real and accelerating every day; that was a fact that couldn't be ignored. Where was the prince? No one person could say for sure. _He vanished into the crystal_. There was no precedent for this, and a lot that had to be dealt with in the meantime. Even were he to emerge tomorrow, would that single act fix this, _all_ of this? Cor didn't want to admit that he had doubts, only healthy reservations.

There were times when hunters would hunt alone, but they tended to co-ordinate together. Passing through the center streets of the city, Cor often saw them grouped in discussion, ready to take action; a resource to rescue, a place to reclaim. _Have any of those missions been successful...?_ Every once in a while, a group stood together in its determination to return to Galdin Quay. (Few individuals, if any, ever returned.) Between Hammerhead and Lestallum, little light remained.

In those groups or alone, Cor found himself seeing Prompto around Lestallum most often - 'often', as if seeing him, or those others, was a regular occurrence. He still smiled, as brightly as if the world wasn't ending, and Cor didn't know how to react to that. It was too easy to remember those days spent before their departure from Insomnia - trying to guide Prompto through the basics of self-defense, taking him to collect his Crownsguard fatigues, trying to impart _anything_ that might leave him in good stead and see him as an asset to the royal journey. That time felt as if it had passed in the blink of an eye - and yet, so much had happened. And yet, Prompto was still around, still alive, still surviving.

"... It feels like so long ago, though." He gave one of those smiles. "Like it's a whole lifetime away."

_It's easier to feel like that when you're young._

He changed the subject quickly, the smile remaining on his lips if not in his eyes. "So, have you... seen any of the others, recently?" He spoke casually, but there was a tension there. Hiding desperation with familiarity.

"I think I've seen that younger Amicitia more often than her brother."

His eyes lit up at that mention. "Oh, Iris! How's she doing, these days? She's doing well, right?"

Those of the Amicitia family seemed born with a will of iron, and their youngest daughter was no exception. She could have withered, and yet, she seemed to blossom somehow - without light, but with strength, with conviction. She fought alongside the best of them - she _was_ of the best of them. Like the boy in front of him, she too would surprise by the depth of her smile; Cor couldn't speak for Gladiolus, but he knew of Iris, and knew that she would never give up.

"... She's doing well. You should maybe stay here awhile - she should be back within the week. I think you'd make quite a formidable team."

"Yeah? Maybe I should!" His stance crumpled slightly as he considered the idea. "I don't know what Gladio would say about that, though."

"I'm sure he'd be proud to see you fight alongside his sister."

Iris would come to Cor, sometimes, in moments that she feared were weakness, but Cor could only see as the opposite. She kept so much to herself, only very occasionally taking Cor to one side and pinning him to the spot with her gaze and words alone. " _Have you seen my brother, recently?... Haha, no, I thought not_..." Or, even more rare - " _You... fought alongside daddy, right? Clarus, I mean. ...Do--... do you remember anything, from back then...?_ " It was easy to fall into nostalgia, Cor knew that much. However, he also knew the importance of imparting those memories, and so would spend time with her, telling her the things that she wanted to know. ' _Do you remember?_ ' Cor felt that it would be impossible to forget.

The look on Prompto's face regarding that suggestion - and those like it, that Cor always made - was one of consideration, but also of reluctance. Cor knew, as well as anyone, that if any hunter was likely to go off alone and still live to tell the tale, it was one of _them_. _Those three_. He was curious, but didn't need to ask their reasoning. _Sometimes, that's just what people need_. He would remember the Prompto that had been surprised by weapon recoil, the first time. Who had fired a little too indiscriminately, who needed to work on perfecting his aim. Even from the edge of Lestallum, those unsettling creaks and cries could be heard; Prompto would leave the city without a care in the world, only with a smile and a promise for his safe return. Words like that were hard to believe, but Cor realized that when Prompto said it, he _believed_ it. That mere act of trust alone, now, felt strange. Cor didn't dislike it.

Lestallum had always been a busy city, full of hustle and bustle, but these days found it full to the seams. It was safe, everybody knew that - as safe as could be, at least. Those who had clung to survival within Insomnia had been smuggled out, the threat of the Empire directly replaced by that of the daemons that freely roamed the streets. There were even groups that had made it from Accordo; he had been part of the initial rescue teams, but refugees still kept coming. Cor was only able to offer the vaguest speculation as to how that was possible, given the current state of the land. _And of the far continent...? Cartanica, Tenebrae? The territories of Niflheim itself?_

_...There's nothing there. There's nothing left._

(The extent of the ruin across Niflheim had been reported almost as soon as the prince's retinue had returned. Cor couldn't imagine that anything would have improved in the time - the full years - that had passed since then.)

The city lay full of those who had come from elsewhere, but the encroaching darkness was only a very external symptom of the weight that lay heavy across those who continued to persist. It was easy to despair; Cor didn't blame a single person who embraced hopelessness, who reeled into self-destruction. It almost felt delusional to believe the opposite. The hunters went above and beyond in every situation, but the conditions that spawned the daemons were beyond their reckoning and devoid of solution. It almost felt as if there were more daemons on the roads than there had ever been human beings on the city streets. _Is that even feasible...?_ There were groups sent to Niflheim, to find and retrieve any information that could be found; even with that in hand, it was hard to know what to do in response. Magitek soldier production had been a controlled process, with those who had controlled it now long gone from the world. Daemonic science had been produced to create an infinite army for an empire stripped of its resources; as far as that went, the technology had been wildly successful. Beyond anything any scientist could have predicted.

From talking to those connected - still - to the prince, Cor knew that they fully believed he would return. This sentiment was difficult to share; _we trusted in the Oracle, and look where that got us--!_ What did the average layperson know of royal prophecies? Even those closest to him didn't know what to expect, or when to expect it. It was all that they could do to sleep, to wake, and to continue dealing with the problems directly in front of them.

"... Where are you staying, at the moment?"

As usual, Prompto had just smiled. "Oh, you know. Here and there. I go wherever I'm needed!"

"You've never wanted to apply for lodgings...?"

A shrug. "Other people need that more. I'm pretty used to it."

"... It must be difficult, without your companions."

Again, that was a comment that caused one of those reluctant expressions. "I don't know, I think--" He laughed, gently. "I think traveling with them was more the exception, to be honest." A few seconds of silence passed; Prompto brightened. "After all, I grew up alone - getting used to sharing a tent, _that_ was the hard part, haha...!"

There was a lot that Cor could have said to that, but no part of him felt that it would have been helpful to do so. Thoughts occurred of a time when rumors of human experimentation in Niflheim felt like the most barbaric tactic of their opposition. There had been dissent, back then - _why should we invite children of Niflheim within the walls of Insomnia? We don't know what they've been programmed to do, or to believe. At the very least, raise them outside of the capital--_

Regis endured, and those children were trusted with their own lives. Nonetheless, Cor felt that the process had fallen short of its potential - Prompto could talk of growing up alone as if it was nothing, but there should have been more support for them. More than codename 'families' that existed only on the paperwork. They had been monitored and provided for, but to say they had been _raised_ seemed altogether like too much credit to give those who had been responsible (or, the opposite). Bureaucracy had failed them, and yet it was still a child of Niflheim that stood in front of him, in this ruined world, still earnestly working to protect what they could with all he could give. _It didn't matter then, and it doesn't matter now_.

Time passed, and Cor would address Prompto whenever he saw him. There was no space for reluctance, and while his own manner was still reticent, he felt it important to congratulate Prompto on his continued survival. Prompto would only laugh and dismiss the thought, saying that it was no big deal, but there were still shades of the youth who would fluster at the lightest hint of praise from the man known as _the Immortal_. (That title felt more of a burden, now, than anything else.) He didn't need looking after, but Cor would still look to him regardless. He could take care of himself and was as resilient as anybody, but Cor still felt that tight shard of regret, that he should have done more, fought more, protected more - and it was as obvious to him as it would have been to anybody that that feeling was not caused by Prompto alone, but he was as representative a symbol as could still be found.

"Come to my room, tonight."

"Huh--!?"

Another hunting expedition had returned, Prompto included. They were victorious, but exhausted - merely looking at them said as much. That wasn't the end of it, because there simply was no end to it, but the immediate objective had been achieved, and so they allowed themselves a return to the city.

"You've worked hard. When's the last time you slept on a mattress? You at least deserve that."

It seemed like the most mundane suggestion in the world, but one that still seemed to surprise Prompto. "I, I--... I couldn't impose. It's okay. We're moving out early in the morning, anyway."

" _Argentum_." Cor realized, from the surprise in Prompto's eyes, that his tone had been harsher than intended. That response seemed almost like some sort of social artifact; why should he worry about _imposing_?! Cor's expression softened. "... Prompto. It's not an imposition. You're here now, aren't you? I should take the offer while it still stands."

That caused a smirk that Cor wasn't sure how to respond to. "Oh, are you going to take it back?

"... You should rest up while you have the opportunity. You'll only be a burden to your company if you push yourself too hard."

"I could probably say the same to you, couldn't I?"

Cor glanced to the side, knowing he couldn't refute that statement. "At least consider it. You know where I am, if you feel like accepting."

"... Right. Thanks, Cor."

On returning to his lodgings, Cor wondered about the source of his actions. Prompto's reluctance had seemed almost audacious, but Cor supposed that he understood it; it was a suggestion made with the best of intention, but still one that was quite forward. Cor couldn't understand why Prompto wouldn't accept, but to turn the suggestion around, realized that it, perhaps, had been just too unexpected to deal with in that moment. He'd never made an offer like that before, after all, so why start now...? The root of those feelings seemed hard to put into words - Cor was sure he wouldn't have been able to explain it even if asked, _but by the gods, Prompto, just let me do this for you. It's nothing, compared to everything, but--_

He'd managed to convince himself thoroughly enough that Prompto wouldn't accept his offer, that when the knock came, Cor found himself surprised. He opened the door to see Prompto rocking back and forth on his heels, "Hey, Marshal...!"

"... You came. Good." Cor held the door open, allowing Prompto access. "You should shower before we eat."

"Whoa--! You're pulling out all the stops. Hot water _and_ food? You're living the life of luxury, here--!"

Ignoring Prompto's playful incredulity, Cor indicated towards the small bathroom. "Let me know if you need anything."

A decade previous, the apartment - such as it was - would have been found in the middle of Lestallum's most desirable accommodations. Essentially a studio space, the room was now largely featureless but for the bed in the middle, and a couch and chair to the side. The far wall was set up as a kitchen area, and the bathroom was set alongside wall-set wardrobes and storage. Regardless of the size of the apartment, there was still some guilty sort of opulence that came from having a space to call _your own_ , especially with Lestallum's situation being as it was. Meldacio had practically pushed it upon him, however, and at the time, it had seemed no bad idea to accept.

Cor hadn't been sure if the silence between them would be awkward, but Prompto was naturally chatty; it was strange - but not unpleasant - to spend time with somebody who still had the capability to be so upbeat. Only the smallest things betrayed him; Cor made to shut the blinds, to block out Lestallum's artificial light and the darkness beyond, but Prompto stopped him with a request that came as a shout before he was able to rephrase it. The view only offered the lower streets of the city, but Prompto insisted. _Just in case_. If Prompto were to be staying longer, then Cor would have offered to wash his clothes - the compromise there was a shirt he left out by way of nightclothes following Prompto's shower, supposing that the bodily difference between them was enough that the garment could function as such. The idea seemed to set Prompto on edge; the thought of not being dressed and ready to go _immediately_ , even in sleep, was not one he had entertained for quite some time.

"I'll be here. It's fine."

"I know, but--"

"If something happens here, then we've got a lot more problems than whether you need to get dressed or not. ...This is the safest place you can be, Prompto." Cor knew, in his heart of hearts, that just _telling_ Prompto this wouldn't make him believe it, but didn't know what else to do. "You're safe, so you can relax." (Prompto didn't look fully convinced, but relented.)

The bed, as the largest thing in the room, would easily have held two people, but on washing up after their meal, Cor went straight to the couch. "The bed's yours."

"... Are you sure?"

"Of course. I wouldn't ask you here just to have you sleep in the chair, would I?"

Even sat in the bed with the blankets around him, Prompto seemed ill-at-ease. "... Well, if--... if you're sure..."

"I'm sure. Goodnight, Prompto."

"... 'Night."

Cor had shut off the main overhead light, but the smaller countertop lights kept the worst of the darkness away. And there was little else to do but sleep; Cor trusted his instincts to know that he would wake were anything to be amiss, and felt more certain of that in the center of Lestallum than he did anywhere else (even if Prompto found it hard to believe). Prompto was quiet, his breathing deep and even; Cor closed his own eyes, inviting sleep.

He couldn't be sure how much time had passed, but found himself coming awake at the sound of _a noise_. Feeling drowsy, Cor glanced at the timepiece on the wall - perhaps two hours had gone by? And that sound--... it took him a couple of seconds to remember why he was in his chair, and who was in his bed... crying? Taking time to deduce the situation, he wasn't sure if that was truly the case. Gasping breath came quickly and Prompto seemed in some manner of distress; quietly, Cor rose from the chair and approached the bed, then dropped to a crouch next to it. Prompto didn't seem to be awake but he was clutching the bedsheets, trembling. Not for the first time, Cor felt at a loss as to how to react; was it better to wake him, or leave him be? He put a hand to Prompto's shoulder, hoping that that might impart some comfort to him in his disturbed slumber. However, instead, the movement caused him to wake suddenly, with a yell between confusion and alarm as he jolted at the touch.

" _AH_ \--..." He stared at Cor, his breathing still heavy. He looked from Cor to the bedside, to the room around him, seemingly disorientated. He looked back to Cor, still confused. "Wh--... what--..."

"... Are you okay?"

Whatever it had been, the worst of it seemed to have vanished on Prompto waking, but he still seemed somewhat shaken. He brought a hand to his face, seemingly surprised for a moment to find the remnants of tears, there; he looked at his fingers and let out a self-deprecating noise. "... Fuck. This again."

"... This happens regularly...?"

"I don't know about 'regularly'. ...'Sometimes', though. Can't let it happen when you're out on the field, can you? Even if you've brought light, and you're camping, they'll still hear you if you make a noise..." He let out a ragged sigh. "It's not on purpose. It'd be better if it was, honestly, then maybe I could stop it."

Cor had been of high rank in Insomnia's army long enough to recognize those signs, but had never been the one to administer treatment; there was no position to relieve Prompto of, nowhere to send him for recovery. How could anybody, now, be expected to recover?! The fear that etched itself into their very bones felt like a natural and legitimate reaction to the danger that they faced. To sleep _easy_ felt like an impossible prospect; to sleep at all, sometimes, felt like too much to ask. _Maybe this is why he didn't want to come_.

"It's... it's not a weakness, Prompto. It just... _is_."

Prompto, still, didn't look convinced. "Mm. I bet you don't wake up crying not even knowing what you're crying at."

"... Everybody has their own reactions. I can't say that I've never cried. What would that make me...?"

"Sorry for waking you." Prompto didn't look Cor in the eye, tugging the bedsheets up around him once more. "We should go back to sleep."

His voice was flat and dismissive, _as if this were something embarrassing_. Again, Cor knew that his efforts to try to explain _this is a known reaction_ and _it's okay that this happens_ were maybe not what Prompto wanted to hear, at least in the moment. He stood up, casting another glance over Prompto before going back to the chair. He nestled down into it, arms folded, head against the backrest - but reluctant to invite sleep, _just for now_. Prompto's breathing seemed to have slowed back to something like normal, but it was hard to tell if he had managed to go back to sleep. There was no rush; Cor felt that he would stay awake through the night, if that action were to provide Prompto with any form of comfort.

Enough time passed for Cor to assume Prompto asleep - enough, at least, to feel surprise on hearing Prompto speak his name.

"... Cor...?"

He looked up immediately. "Yes, Prompto? I'm here."

Silence; long enough for Cor to wonder, momentarily, if he'd imagined their previous interaction.

"N--... no, it's nothing. Sorry. Don't worry about it."

"If there's anything I can do, then tell me. There's no point in keeping it to yourself."

"... It's stupid."

"Prompto." Cor's tone seemed to imply that he had little patience for these sorts of exchanges.

"... You should have the bed."

"We've been through this. I'm not--"

"I--... I mean, you should get into bed. So we're both in the bed."

"--...?" Cor stopped in the middle of his protest, taking in Prompto's words. On the surface, it seemed like a simple enough request. What was complicated about that? But there was a knot of confusion within him, preventing him from rising from his seat. "In what--... manner are you suggesting...?"

Prompto let out a breath of amusement, as if recalling a happy memory. "When we were in the tent, it was--... it was so cramped, Cor. I didn't know how I'd get used to it, at first, but when you're exhausted... you know. And it was kind of... nice, too. Just... you know, all piled together, you always--... knew that they were there. Even if there was snoring, or, like, someone's elbow in your ear, it was still--... yeah. ...I never woke up scared when they were around. I guess things are really different now--... maybe it wouldn't be the same, but--..."

 _An innocent request_. Prompto's words were reluctant, but the feeling behind them seemed quite clear; perhaps it was difficult to ask something like that, but Cor felt that there seemed no harm in doing what was asked of him. He stood up from the chair, shrugging off his outer jacket and dragging his boots to kick them off as he approached the bed once more. On reaching the opposite side of the bed, he lifted up the covers and slipped in between them; he couldn't prevent the part of him that felt unsure of quite how to interact with Prompto's body, regardless of the situation. There was nothing more there than a request for physical proximity, but he lay so close that Cor could feel the transmitted heat that the fabric trapped; _that, surely, is the point of this_.

"... I don't think I'm the same either, but I can try."

"Th--... thanks."

Not wishing to seem too forward, Cor kept in place. Even without being able to see Prompto's expression, though, it seemed obvious that he was troubled. "... Are you okay...?"

"Can I--... move?"

"Do whatever you want."

There was a moment of hesitation before Prompto dared himself to move; his back against Cor's chest, the space between them eliminated. "Is this--... okay...?"

"It's fine."

"S-sorry. This is weird."

"Humans are raised from birth to crave human touch. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Mm... saying that kind of makes it weirder, m'just saying..."

"... Sorry."

Cor realized that he couldn't recall the last time he'd shared a bed with another, platonic or otherwise. He also wasn't sure why his mind was suggesting that as something to contemplate; _it doesn't matter. This is what Prompto needs_. (Was it? Was it really...?)

"H-hey... Cor...?"

"What is it?"

"...--N--... nevermind."

 _Do I need to pull each word from your tongue individually?!_ "Say it."

In response to that, Prompto did not; however, he reached back (as if searching--) and then took hold of the one hand he could access, drawing it forth and across his own chest. Even without words, the implication was clear; Cor brought his other arm up from beneath the two of them, bringing Prompto into a close embrace.

"Th--... this is definitely weird... s-sorry..."

"Stop apologizing."

"R-right. Sorry. I--... I mean--..."

As a gesture, it seemed to make sense. Prompto had spoken of the safety he'd felt on feeling physically close to his companions, and the part of Cor's mind that wouldn't let him forget what an intimate position this was made him close his eyes tightly. _This is what he needs. This is to comfort him. Only that, nothing else_. To think anything different--... even the concept seemed unforgivable. There was nothing wrong with embracing somebody, even in bed, completely platonically. The low tilt of Prompto's eyelashes and his uneven breathing had nothing to do with it. Nor the way he lay with the shirt pulled back to almost his shoulder, leaving his neck exposed and _so close_ \--. The way Prompto moved was, surely, just to find the best position to sleep in. Some people needed to move more than others in order to find that. The fit of their hips together was only due to being physically proximate. That continual movement was just--

"... Prompto."

"--Mm?!" All moment stopped; Prompto froze, as if he'd been caught.

"What are you doing...?"

"I--... I was just--... getting comfortable."

"... I see. ...Are you comfortable?"

"Y-yeah. Don't worry about it. ...G'night."

With his arms around Prompto's chest, Cor could feel the rise and fall of his breathing, as obvious as anything. He wondered if his own heartbeat was as obvious; if his body were to betray him, then Prompto would be the first to notice. Prompto, who was shifting back against him once more. Prompto, who had taken one of Cor's hands, and was gingerly pressing it to his stomach, to his lower abdomen--... he stopped there, hesitating. As if a movement like that could still be interpreted as something entirely innocent. _Is it right to acknowledge this...?_ Cor's own movements were halting, hesitant for different reasons. _Is this--...?_ He pressed the lightest of kisses just beneath Prompto's ear, as if testing the waters, and then buried his face against his nape, unable to help a heavy exhalation of breath against the skin found there. That, in itself, seemed to cause a shudder, as well as a noise that Prompto wasn't quite able to stifle.

" _Mm_ \--..."

Cor kept his voice low, barely above a whisper. "... Is this what you want?... Prompto..."

Prompto's own voice was quiet, although still the loudest thing in the room; "--... Sorry... I'm sorry--... 'm--... m'sorry--..."

"--... Prompto--..."

In conflict to his words, however, Prompto had moved Cor's hand to where the shirt parted; he rotated his hips between Cor's body behind him, and the hand that was now reached between his legs and - gently, hesitantly - moving fingers across the tented fabric to be found there. Cor felt his other hand brought to Prompto's mouth, where those apologies came interrupted by kisses; pressed to his palm, to his digits, longer and then deeper as he took them into his mouth, sucking and kissing against them in a way that felt difficult to misconstrue. That sudden gesture made Cor's own breath come quickly; he shifted to press his lips to Prompto's upper shoulder, where only the faintest trace of his spread of freckles remained. Prompto let out a sound against Cor's fingers on feeling that contact, then deeper on feeling the pressure of something almost like a bite, which left an immediate flushed mark against his pale skin.

"Nm--... _mmm_ \--..."

"Here--... Prompto, here--..." Cor moved his hand from Prompto's crotch to his own, hastily working against zip and material to free his own arousal, pressing a hiss into Prompto's shoulder as he leant forth to make definite contact; Prompto was already trying to grab his hand back, and so he allowed it to be guided. He ran a thumb over the waistband of Prompto's underwear and then upward, letting his fingers press against pliant warm skin - and beneath Prompto's underwear - reaching quickly to pump Prompto's erection with his fist against the rhythm he was now grinding against Prompto's backside. He moved his other hand to clasp across Prompto's shoulders, holding him in place and controlling the friction that threatened to overwhelm him.

 _It's been so long_. Such things had never quite been a priority in Cor's life, but with the heat descending over his mind, that concept felt almost incomprehensible. _Is this helping? Is this a comfort?_ Between the fate of the world and endless solo missions, it was so easy to forget the warmth of _another person_. Maybe this wasn't the time for this, or maybe it was _exactly_ the time for this; Prompto talked so easily of being alone, and for a moment, Cor couldn't stand it. He'd come so far from his first nervous days at the citadel, those days where Cor had looked at him and felt the strange stirrings of an urge to _protect_ \--.

_Is that what you're doing, right now?_

( _Maybe that's just one more thing you failed to protect. It doesn't matter; nothing much matters, anymore._ )

"Nhh--... _mmn_ \--... _ah_ \--" Prompto seemed more languid against the bed now, leaning into Cor's kisses as he tried to guide the larger hand that was masturbating him. Whatever apologetic concern had plagued him seemed to have vanished, his voice only caught on the gasps and sighs that Cor's touch elicited from him. " _Mm_ \--... _mm_... -- _hha_..." He closed his eyes, breath hitching. "--... _nn_ \--... N--... _Noct_ \--..."

Cor stopped his movement on hearing that one syllable (but Prompto didn't notice, caught in a daydream and simply unable to stop the movements that were bringing him closer, _closer_ \--).

_... Of course._

_That's what you want, isn't it? That's what you need_. Was any of this similar to the way that Noctis might touch him? Cor didn't know. Realized that, perhaps, maybe Prompto didn't even know - and what could he do about that, now? Breathless apologies, _that name_ \--...

" _Noct_ \--... I'm--... I'm sorry--... I--... I couldn't--... N _nn_ \--... _Noct_ \--"

There was no space to think, not in this situation. Cor wondered if they should disentangle, but Prompto's fingers were entwined with his own in a manner that suggested that stopping, now, was not a concept that he would wish to entertain. If Cor tried to move away, Prompto would only close the millimeters between them. Each thought rose and fell uselessly; trying to think _should_ or _shouldn't_ was a lofty aim, far beyond the base needs that spurred this to begin with. Cor knew that he couldn't be Noctis, could never be Noctis - but Prompto knew that, surely? This wasn't a deception. This was just--... (Cor didn't know what it was). Coherency fell away from them, Cor only aware that each wordless sound that Prompto made felt like it sent a pulse to the base of his spine; everything else was swept away but for the unconditional urge that, still, seemed hard to vocalize. Even then, Cor could only nuzzle into Prompto's hair, whispering somewhere above his ear.

" _Gods_ , Prompto--... you're so--... so good--..." _So good and you try so hard and you don't deserve any of this, not a single second of it--_

"W-... was I--... _hhn_ \--... did--... did I--..."

 _Do what you want. Take what you need_. Cor's thoughts were in disarray, unable to interpret Prompto's words, still desperate to answer them. "...--So good... _so_ good--..."

Prompto had slowed the movement of his hand, in that moment, seemingly entirely focused on the movements needed to bring Cor to his climax; it was too much, and it had been too long and his body tired of waiting. He hunched against Prompto as he came, holding him close, unable to concentrate on anything further than the warmth of his body, the heat between them, and _Prompto_ \--.

The sensations wiped his mind of conscious thought, for as long as it took; on feeling any semblance of reality filtering back, he realized that his hand, still, was wrapped around Prompto's erection; he was still breathing heavily, still _close_ , but not _there_. Cor gave a dry swallow, feeling sapped of energy and unsure of how to proceed.

"... Prompto--..."

"Say--... say that again--... would you...?"

"I--..." It was easy for things said in the heat of the moment to vanish on contact, and it took a moment for Cor to pinpoint exactly what it was that Prompto was trying to say.

"... I'm--... ' _good_ '..." He let out a breath of a laugh. "Did you--... really mean that...?"

Cor pressed up against Prompto once more, but differently this time. Held him in an embrace and moved his hand slowly, _giving him what he needs_. "... You're good, Prompto. You've done well."

"Mm--... _mmhh_ \--..."

"It's okay. You're okay." Cor wasn't sure if he was fully adept at offering verbal affirmations of comfort, but Prompto didn't appear to find fault with any of the words whispered to him. As much as the physical contact itself was addicting, it seemed to be something in _those words_ that hooked into Prompto's mindset, granting him the freedom to let himself go. Any words - apologies, desperate dreams of the past - seemed beyond him as he came, turning his head to muffle breathy moans against the pillow (as Cor pressed kisses against the base of his neck, still).

As much as Cor felt exhausted, so too seemed Prompto; Cor didn't know if there was anything left to say, but could feel the way that Prompto had relaxed against his touch and against his body. His breathing evened out, and he seemed - _comfortable?_ Cor shifted again, gently, to take Prompto in an embrace as he slept; that seemed to cause no disturbance, and so Cor felt satisfied to close his own eyes, and to beckon sleep once more.

 

\-----

 

On waking up to find himself alone in bed (and remembering what had happened before their slumber), Cor wondered if Prompto had left early--... but on sitting up in bed, he realized that the sound of the shower was audible, and the nightshirt he'd lent was hanging on the doorhandle. Prompto was free to go at any point, but there was still some small part of Cor's thought process that was glad that he hadn't left _immediately_. He hadn't stated at what time he intended to catch up with his duties for the local hunters, but Cor supposed that there had to still be time, else he might not have entertained the thought of such a leisurely shower.

It still felt strange to wake to see the sky dark outside. Even with the years that had gone by, made up of months filled with days of trying to still sleep and wake in some semblance of a routine, part of him nonetheless craved the sensation of waking up to see the _morning_. To see it light outside, ready for the new day--... but Cor knew that he wasn't alone in that desire. There surely wasn't a living being left alive that didn't long for blue skies and sunshine; that was just part of the difficulty of living as they were. To observe the passing of the day and night cycle felt like the most basic urge, and it was easy to feel adrift without that constant. In place of that, time was kept meticulously; they would still speak of _morning_ and _evening_ and _night_ as if it were possible to tell, because if not, _then_ what...?

Prompto emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, to the smell of brewing coffee; this seemed to give him some pause, as if he didn't know how to react. Cor looked around on hearing the door opening, tending to the mugs in front of him.

"... Did you sleep well?"

"--... Y--... yeah, I--... I guess..."

"That's something. ...I trust you woke up in time for your hunt?" Having poured the coffee, Cor took both mugs as he walked over to his chair, and the small table next to it; he placed one mug down and indicated Prompto towards it, taking his own back to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

"Yeah, it... it should be fine." Prompto sat in the chair, still seeming somewhat uncomfortable, somehow.

"... Do you need some sugar? I should still have some around here, I don't use it all that often--"

"N-no, it's fine. The coffee's fine. Thanks."

"Should I cook something? I don't take breakfast all that often, but if you want--"

"It's fine. Really." Prompto wrapped both hands around the mug as he drank from it, gaze seemingly taken by the carpet; if the coffee proved too bitter, then he gave nothing away to indicate that fact. At the same time, the lack of eye contact and his quiet behavior seemed unusual, although Cor knew this the longest time he'd spent in Prompto's company perhaps for the entire time that they'd known one another.

"If there's anything I can do, just let me know."

Still not looking up, Prompto hesitated. "I--..."

"Yes?"

"--... Sorry that I got--... _weird_. Last night, I mean. I got kind of, uh... carried away."

"I feel as if I've already made it clear that you have no need to apologize, but maybe that's just habit for you. Regardless, I reiterate: you have nothing to apologize for."

"... Mm." (Cor was surprised that Prompto stopped himself with that noise; he suspected a conscious prevention of the reflex apology that might have come otherwise.)

"You--... were close with the Prince, weren't you?"

Prompto looked taken aback by that question, as if it had come out of nowhere. He smiled, but there was a frown in his eyes, as if suspicious. "... Of course we were close. That's what best friends are, right?" He ran a hand through his drying hair, as if distracted. "Did I say something in my sleep? You don't--... have to pay attention to that kind of thing."

For a moment, the urge to ask _were you intimate with him?_ rose, but in the split-second between thinking it and saying it out loud, Cor realized that that was a somewhat intrusive thing to ask. It seemed that Prompto didn't remember saying the Prince's name back _then_ ; Cor couldn't forget it, but supposed, also, that it wasn't any of his business. If Prompto had or hadn't been, or had wanted and been denied - what would be the point in raking up those thoughts and those feelings? It was difficult enough getting through each day without having other people purposefully raise the subject on things that were lost. _Of course you were close. Of course you miss him. To say that would just be stating the obvious_.

Having made some sort of inner peace on the subject, Cor didn't elaborate; Prompto watched him carefully, as if expecting more questions--... but none came, and he seemed to allow himself to relax, just slightly. It seemed safe to change the subject; he chanced a look towards Cor's line of sight, just before he spoke. "... Thank you, Cor. For letting me stay here, I mean. ...I did sleep well, I think. Once I got to sleep, heh..." The comment was light-hearted (or at least was attempted as such), but still carried the implication of _last night_. Again, Prompto faltered. "Um--... with, um--... with what _happened_ , uh... you can--... you can forget that that happened, if you want. That wasn't--... I don't just--..." He leant his head to one side, frustrated by his inability to express himself adequately. 

"It was bad enough that you'd want to forget it?"

Prompto shook his head, almost more to himself than anything else. "No, I just--" On looking towards Cor, he noticed the trace of a smile on his lips. _Was that a joke?_ Times in which Cor smiled felt rare, and for him _to make a joke felt rarer_. That small expression halted Prompto's train of thought, but somehow made it easier for him to relax; he, too, was able to smile, breathing out his amusement. "... It's not something I make a habit of, that's all. I don't just--... fall into bed with people all the time."

"It's hardly any of my business what you do, or don't do."

"I just--... I don't want you thinking any less of me--!" Prompto spoke quickly, bracing himself afterward for some manner of rebuke. He held that expression - shoulders pulled up, eyes scrunched closed - for long enough that Cor sighed gently before standing up, setting his mug down on the nearest available surface and making his way over to the chair. He placed his hand on Prompto's head, unmoving; the action caused Prompto to open his eyes, looking up at Cor questioningly.

"Do I really need to say any of this? You know as much as I do what the world is like, now. If there's anything that makes you feel happy, or less alone, or that you feel you need... what's the point in denying yourself anything? We could all be dead tomorrow." Cor withdrew his hand, realizing how hopeless that sounded. "... That's how I feel, anyway. I might not be the best man to come to for advice. I've made enough mistakes."

"... I still think you're really awesome. I always did."

"I wasn't fishing for compliments, but... thank you, Prompto. You've certainly improved far beyond expectation."

"Eheh..." (It was moments like that, with a small, shy smile lighting his expression, that reminded Cor of those times back at the citadel, before _this_ , before _everything_. In some ways, Prompto had matured as much to be barely recognizable - in other ways he remained exactly the same, and perhaps that was no bad thing. _Maybe this darkness can't taint all things._ )

"Come here whenever you want. If I'm away on a hunt, I'd feel better to think that someone was able to make use of what's here."

"And... if you're not away?"

"I think that's counted under ' _whenever_ ', as well as ' _if_ '. Try to pay attention."

"I mean--... um..."

Cor leant against the wall closest to where Prompto sat, casting his gaze out of the window and to the streets below. "If you require physical companionship, then state it clearly. That, too, is a need."

The blush that spread over Prompto's face was quite obvious. It seemed useful, in that moment, that Cor was stood slightly behind where he sat; it made it easier not to have to look at him. "Gotta say, if someone told me back when we first met that one day you'd be saying that to me, I totally wouldn't have believed them. ...Dunno if I know how to react to it now, to be honest with you."

"Just be straightforward about what you want. Adults should be able to discuss such things, yes?"

"Right." Prompto ran a hand through his hair once more, realizing it now mostly dry. "R-right. You're an incurable romantic, you do know that?... I should put some clothes on." He got up then, still holding the towel around his waist, to locate what he'd brought with him. Cor allowed him to do so without paying attention to the process, going back to his cooling coffee, letting his attention drift to those who were wandering by on the visible streets outside.

"... And what about you, huh?"

After a short period of silence, Cor realized that he was being addressed. Looking over, he saw that Prompto was fastening his belt, but was otherwise fully dressed. The question itself seemed quite vague. "What about me?"

"There must be things that you want, right? Like... I don't know. I don't know what sorts of things you want." Finished with his belt, Prompto put his hands on his hips with a smile. "Maybe there's nothing you want that I can give you, but if there is, then just let me know! It shouldn't be one-sided, right? We should all help each other. I mean--... that's always true, I guess, but now more than ever. You know what I mean."

Prompto left not long after that, to join with the group of hunters he'd promised his assistance to. Cor watched as he left, and remained in place for some time afterward; it was just a small thing, maybe not something that Prompto had meant seriously (although Cor didn't doubt his words), but that sentiment dug deep into him with a force that he found surprising.

 _When was the last time that anybody ever asked you what you want...?_ That thought brought a heaviness that Cor didn't know how to shake. And Prompto _had_ asked, which should in theory have perhaps alleviated it, but the suggestion in itself picked apart years of consideration, of memories that Cor didn't care to feel shackled by. He'd spent enough time in regret without openly inviting those thoughts to mind; it was hard to look forward, but no good came of looking back. Nothing of those times could be changed; not a single thing. Wishing it could be so was mere folly, _and yet_ \--. Some things couldn't be helped, and forgetting the past would bring no aid, either. What was the solution...? Perhaps there was none. _No solution for any of it_.

Cor readied himself for the immediate moment; Prompto had left for the hunt, and he had his own duties also. Getting waylaid by emotional matters seemed like a luxury; there were far more immediate things to worry about. There was also a small part of Cor that wondered if Prompto might ever wish for the two of them to hunt together - or as a trio, with Iris - but also wondered if that was a suggestion he would welcome. Was it Prompto's own independence that prevented him raising that point, or did he retain some sort of starstruck inability to ask such things of _the Immortal_...? He knew his previous queries along those lines had only ever resulted in indecision, but perhaps this was a time to take command.

Closing the door of his apartment behind him, Cor resolved to raise the subject, the next time their paths crossed. _It could be that you won't return from today's hunt. ...I don't have that guarantee, either_. There was little left to hope for, but the thought of combining their skills in battle brought a small spark to Cor that he felt like he hadn't felt in a long time. Some slight memory of excitement, as if there could ever be a _thrill_ in the things that they had to do. And Prompto still believed that Noctis would return; Cor knew, more than anything else, that that belief was unshakeable. He didn't know if he shared that belief, but if that was what brought Prompto his optimism, then perhaps it was possible to relent, just a little. To see the unshakeable faith there in that smile - and to believe that, _just maybe_ , warmth could someday return to the world.


End file.
